


a drabble a day: the dragon age edition

by SOMNlARl



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, M/M, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles and ficlets surrounding the dragon age world. all chapters will be titled with the pairing, a brief description and whether it is SFW or not.</p><p>this will almost definitely not be updated daily because some of what i post on tumblr will be WIPs and i'd rather save those for full fics on here. if you're curious feel free to check out my tumblr. the tag for this project will be 'a drabble a day'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullrian - Under-Desk-Blowjobs - NSFW

**Author's Note:**

> i'm planning on writing a drabble or short ficlet every day on tumblr as a way to try to ease myself back into actually enjoying writing. pairings will likely be mostly queer. this is just where i'm collecting everything i've written to keep myself organized.

“Cullen?”

Cullen forces his gaze back up to Lavellan’s face as she reads over the latest reports from the Emprise du Lion, the dinner tray Fern had brought him hours ago all but forgotten. He smiles, or rather, he tries to smile as his face contorts, breath hitching in the back of his throat as Dorian’s treacherous lips tighten around his length and take him further into his mouth.

“Hmmm?” He shrugs, an apology of sorts. Lavellan stares curiously at him and he rubs at his temples to feign a headache. “I apologize, Inquisitor. I… it’s been a very long day.”

“I understand,” she smils brightly, ears twitching. “You work too hard, you know. And I never see you eat! I interrupted you… why don’t you finish your dinner while I bring you up to date on our movements?”

He makes to protest, raises a hand to push the tray away but stifles a gasp as fingers trail up his inner thigh, all the while Dorian’s mouth is warm and slick around him, his fingers rubbing up and down his length as Dorian takes him, the head of his cock hitting the back of the mage’s throat.

“Are you…?” The Inquisitor fixed him with a questioning look, sharp violet eyes full of concern.

“Fine, Inquisitor,” he insists.  _Maker’s breath_ , if he didn’t get a handle on himself or she didn’t leave Lavellan would be convinced he was back in the throes of withdrawal and watch him even closer.

He takes a piece of thick, crusty bread from the tray, layers it with cheese and takes a bite, silently sighing in relief as Lavellan’s gaze softens and she continues, staring down at the report in her hands. Dorian continues to work him, sucking eagerly as Cullen tangles his fingers through his hair to guide him. Dorian flicks his tongue at his slit making him hiss softly, hips bucking as Dorian takes him in again.

“As I was saying, the Red Templars are pretty firmly ensconced there. We cleared three of their main camps, freed their slaves but I think… Cullen! Are you alright?”

“I… no,” he groans, hips twitching as Dorian scrapes down his length with his teeth, fingers pumping slowly in their wake. 

“I’ll call for a healer,” Lavellan says, quickly turning to leave.

“No!” He manages a strangled gasp as Dorian breathes a warm puff of air on his slit. He moans, the noise rumbling from deep within his chest, and drops his head to his desk, pitching the sound lower to make it sound like a pained groan.

“It’s… just a headache,” he grinds out as Dorian swirls his tongue expertly around him, teasing him closer and closer to his peak. “No need to worry, Inquisitor.”

She nods. “I’ll leave you then, Commander.”

Lavellan pauses as she opens the door. “You know, Cullen. Next time you  _could_  just tell me it’s not a good time.”

She smirks and ducks out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Dorian laughs and the vibration brings him to the edge, his cock twitches and pulses as he spills into Dorian’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat. The mage sucks at him greedily before licking him clean.  

He grasps Dorian by the hand, helping him up from the floor and into his lap, kisses him even as he tries to get his breath back under control.

Dorian hums his approval as he teases a hand through Cullen’s curls. “I suppose we’ll have to be more careful next time, Amatus. Lavellan’s less innocent than I’d imagined. Of course she’s Dalish, I should have known. All that  _frolicking,_  naked under the moonlight.”

Cullen chuckles and kisses him again, savoring the bitter salt of him on Dorian’s tongue.

He buries his face in Dorian’s chest and murmurs, “I suppose we shall, my love.”


	2. Cullrian - dust motes - SFW

There was a reason that Cullen never requested that the hole in his roof be patched. In the winter he’d lie awake, watching the fat, fluffy flakes fall, glimmering in the moonlight. He’d pull Dorian closer, relishing in the feel of the warm of Dorian’s skin against his own, the way the mage would press closer into his chest until there was nothing between them, not even a breath of cold air screaming off the Frostbacks. Dorian looked beautiful in the frigid night air, bathed in starlight, the fall of snowflakes dappling against his rich, dark skin. 

In the summer though - and yes, Skyhold _did_ have a proper Ferelden summer, hanging warm and thick and sticky in the air, no matter how loudly Dorian protested - things were different. Cullen still lay awake at night but instead he watched the way the dust motes hung lazily in the air, shimmering in starlight. Skyhold had maids of course, but no matter how well they cleaned the endless stream of dust remained. He supposed he could only blame the hole, the missing slats in his roof letting the warm breeze carry in soot and dirt and particles of stone off the mountains. 

Dorian was beautiful. Dorian was _always_  beautiful. But in this light, the soft rays of morning tracing the outlines of the dust motes, scattering patterns across Dorian’s skin he was stunning. 

Cullen pressed closer into him, wrapped his arms around Dorian’s chest and nosed at the nape of his neck, pressing a soft, insistent kiss against his skin even as the heat caressing his skin demanded that he pull away. 

He’d never liked Ferelden summers as a boy but as he nuzzled closer, his nose against Dorian’s neck he couldn’t help but think that perhaps, just _perhaps,_  he was changing his mind. 


End file.
